


Disrupted

by Foreversfangirl



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Concussions, Established Relationship, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Non-Graphic Violence, Reader-Insert, Riddur, Spoilers, married, parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:08:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28087515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Foreversfangirl/pseuds/Foreversfangirl
Summary: Your clan of three has a routine that gets you through the day to day. But the events of chapter 14 throw a wrench into that and disrupt everything
Relationships: Din Djarin/Reader
Kudos: 70





	Disrupted

It seems like everyday is an adventure traveling with your riddur and foundling son. If it’s not bringing in a bounty, it’s doing odd jobs in exchange for information you only hope will lead to the next helpful piece of information. And still there are days that must be “wasted” to resupply, make repairs, do laundry, and catch up on sleep if you’re lucky. But despite this seemingly turbulent lifestyle, your clan of three had a routine of sorts. 

Mostly revolving around the baby. When he wakes up, it’s officially morning time. That means getting him up and out of the pram, and immediately getting food in his belly. Then, hopefully you would be arriving to whatever destination is set for the day. Hunting a bounty, meeting with a contact, delivering bounties and cargo, and market days. Market days were the little guys favorite. Usually because he got treats from the market, and dad carried him in the satchel. They only thing he liked better, was when mom carried him in her arms. 

If it’s a big travel day through hyperspace. Then the entire day is devoted to entertaining him on board while also trying to get work done. Din cleans weapons, makes small internal repairs, charts future courses. You try to balance the budget to make sure you will have enough credits to afford fuel and food, count out rations to make sure they will last, and prepare them as best you can with the limited galley space available. All while trying to teach Grogu basic things like his colors and shapes. Truthfully, you weren’t sure if you should be trying to teach him more advanced things like arithmetic, or planetary geography. He was supposed to be older than you after all. 

Grogu gets grumpy and fussy at about midday, no matter what planet or how deep in hyperspace you may be. That means it’s time for him to drink something like bantha milk, bone broth, or just water if you’re running low on supplies; and take a nap. Sometimes you or Din will nap with him, especially if it’s a resupply and repair day. 

When he wakes up again, he’s usually less needy. He is usually pretty happy to observe whatever it is his parents are doing. If Din is flying the ship, he liked to sit with him in the cockpit and play with the durasteel ball handle on the rear deflector shield control. Or he will sit on one of the crates tethered to the walls of the ship while you meticulously inventory the supplies and their replacement costs. He’s most happy on the afternoons when both you and Din sit in the cockpit together. Din flying the ship, you copiloting at his side. Grogu likes to sit on your lap and listen to the two of you talk. Droning on and on about nothing. He doesn’t always know what you’re talking about, but he likes both his parents to be together, especially if they’re giving him attention together. 

Which is why the end of the day meal is his favorite. Even if you and Din haven’t interacted much all day, you would come together for dinner. Sitting as a family in the hull of the ship to eat rations together. After dinner, Din cleared the eating utensils while you would give Grogu a bath and get him ready for bed. 

Cradling him against your shoulder, pacing up and down the length of the hull, bouncing him slightly with each step, and humming sweet lullabies. Coming to a stop in front of his pram, just as he was falling asleep. Din would join you, drawing you into his arms, and swaying gently without a word and you finish your last lullaby. Placing Grogu into the pram, you give him a kiss on the head and close the lid. 

At that point, you and Din have time to either continue working on your respective tasks, work on two person jobs on the ship, or as you both prefer just spend some quality time together. 

But not anymore.  
Not since Tython. 

Less than an hour. Less than a single hour had passed between the three of you stepping off of the Razor Crest, and watching as the four massive, seemingly indestructible, black droids ascended into the sky with your child in tow. In less than 60 minutes the Crest was obliterated with everything you owned on board, you were beaten within an inch of your life by the droids, and your son was plucked from your arms. Left to bleed out on that wretched mountain top. 

And less than an hour after that, you sat aboard the ship of a man you had just been threatened by. You felt disoriented and dazed, and not just from the probable concussion. Din knelt in front of you below deck, gripping your forearms as you stared blankly into the visor of his helmet. 

“What are we gonna do?” You asked numbly. “A-a-all of our weapons. Our rations. Our home. Our son..... what are we gonna do?” 

He squeezes you again, it’s grounding but you are having a difficult time getting your mind to focus on any one thing. 

“We’re going back to Nevarro,” he says frankly. But you’re confused. 

“Nevarro? You think they’re taking him to Nevarro?”

This worried Din more, it is evident you are more injured that you appear. And he makes a mental note to send a communication to Cara ahead of time to make sure medical staff is waiting when they get there. 

“No cyare’ika, we have to get some help before we can go after Grogu. We’re gonna go see Cara,” 

This seems to pacify you for the time being. Your head his pounding, and all you want to do is cry and sleep. And hope when you wake up this will have been a horrible dream. 

It isn’t though. You wake up in a clean bed with a bandage around your head. Din lays next to you on his stomach. Despite the fact he his dead asleep, he looks exhausted. His eyes are puffy and a little darkened. He’s been crying. And all at once you are overwhelmed by feelings of guilt, sadness, loss and despair. Your home really was gone, and so was your son. But unlike the Crest, you could get Grogu back. 

When Din eventually wakes up, he describes how disoriented you were and the utter terror he felt at not being able to keep you awake during the flight. Luckily a heavily dosed bacta shot, and a good long sleep had you on the mend. He tells you of his plan to spring Migs Mayfeld from prison with Cara’s help, and get him to help find out where to find Moff Gideon’s cruiser. You don’t like the idea of bringing in Mayfeld. He had been extremely aggressive and irritable the last time you’d dealt with him... but you didn’t have a better idea. 

It was much easier than expected getting Mayfeld to agree to help. Though he didn’t have much room to argue. You felt almost good about the situation as your rag tag group consisting of Mayfeld, Cara, Fennec, Boba Fett, Din and yourself; flew towards Morak. You felt like you were actually working to accomplish something. Getting closer to getting your baby back. 

But like Fett said. It was a long journey to get there. It was like being home on the Crest. But you were uncomfortable, unused to being in close proximity to so many people for this long. And you had nothing to do. You felt... trapped in your own mind. Without thinking about it you would stand up, as if moved by some unseen force and walk away from the others and return with nothing new and not a word. Just a sad empty look on your face. 

After the fourth time. Mayfeld blurted out “What the hell are you doing? You got a screw loose or something” he was trying to be funny. Trying to cut the tension. You didn’t turn around, you just retreated below deck. This time Din followed. “What’s with them?” Mayfeld asked, directing his question at Cara. 

“It’s midday,” she spat. There was a long silence before said quieter “it’s time to feed her son and put him down for a nap” 

That shut Mayfeld up.

Below deck, you leaned your head and forearms against the wall of Slave I. Enjoying the cold that leeched into your skin, at least it was something. 

“Cyare,” Din called out softly. You turned to face him, leaning back against the wall. Tears brimmed in your eyes. He approached you, extending his arms out to you. Inviting to to take comfort if you wanted it. You accepted, leaning on him as the tears slipped down your cheeks. 

“I know” he whispers “we’ll get him back. Whatever it takes,”


End file.
